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None of those feelings materialised as pity trickled through her, pity for the weakened, frightened man he'd have to be to extend the hand of friendship to her after all these years, after all he'd done.
Sadness clogged her throat as she placed her hand in his briefly, squeezing once before snatching it back. It was more than he deserved but in that one, fleeting touch, some of her residual anger receded.
'I'm so sorry for everything,’ he said, flexing the fingers on the hand she'd clasped as if not quite believing she'd done it.
Needing to escape before she broke down, she managed a brisk nod.
If only an apology could change the damage Darby had done.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Britt stepped into the Crusoe Suite, the air whooshing from her lungs as she realised what Nick had done.
Every detail of the incredible room—the sheer ivory chiffon draping the open-air French doors leading to a stunning horizon pool, the raised alabaster king-sized bed, the countless tea-lights shimmering in the dusk, the heady scent of frangipani lingering in the air—indicated Nick remembered.
He remembered.
Her gaze lingered on the picnic blanket spread in the middle of the spacious room: the feast of chocolate-dipped strawberries, double-roasted almonds, and petit fours, with a bottle of chilled Moscato in an ice bucket.
All her favourites, in her ultimate fantasy room.
When had she told him? Their first date? Their second? Their tenth? Irrelevant, considering he'd remembered her island fantasy and recreated it to perfection in this breathtaking suite.
'I'm glad you came.'
Like something out of a movie, Nick stepped into view, brushing chiffon aside to enter the suite. If the room was gorgeous and the view sublime, Nick was out of this world.
Wearing formal black trousers and a crisp white shirt open at the neck, his hair ruffled by the ocean breeze, he padded barefoot towards her, every step accelerating her heart rate towards cardiac arrest.
'I had to say goodbye,' she managed on a squeak as he swept her into his arms, strode to the picnic blanket, and gently deposited her, nuzzling her neck in the process.
'Shh…' He brushed a soft kiss against her lips, a kiss to fuel dreams, a kiss laden with promise. 'No talk of goodbyes. We have the whole night and I intend to make every second count.'
If his kiss rendered her speechless, the clear intent in his eyes clammed her up because there was little doubt once they'd eaten he'd be feasting on her.
'Here, drink this.' He handed her a wine glass, his knowing smile telling her he knew exactly how he’d flummoxed her.
After several unladylike gulps, she cleared her throat and managed to speak. 'This must be the most popular suite in the hotel.'
His eyes glittered as he shook his head. 'It's never been booked.'
'I don't understand.'
'This room is never available. It's never been used.'
'But—'
'Tonight's the first.' Raising his glass in her direction, he said, 'Rather fitting.'
He couldn't possibly mean…he wasn't implying…
'Are you saying—?'
Swooping in for another stolen kiss, he whispered against her lips, 'This is your room, Red. Your fantasy. Surely you know I could never share it with anyone else?'
Her heart swelled with love for this amazing man. She loved him with everything she had but she couldn't silence the doubt demons perched on her shoulder, whispering in her ears what she'd be giving up, what she'd be risking if she stayed now.
While she'd taken the first tentative step towards forgiving her father, everything she'd been through with him had moulded her into the woman she'd become today: a strong, independent woman too scared to rely on anyone else, a woman wary of loving too much.
